Chapter Twenty-Six

Dawn of a New Day

'The clouds had all but vanished, leaving only a spotless, azure morning sky, which offered no hindrance to the beams of warm sunlight that shone down upon the earth, drying what little evidence of last night's storm had remained, just as the clouds themselves had done overnight. A warm wind blew its way softly through Zootopia's streets — the concrete pavements, which gleamed gold in the early sun — as the first of the early morning risers set about their daily duties.

The duties of these early risers went from great to small, from high to low, from noble... to nefarious. Dealers and salesmemmle sparsely polluted the streets, many workers for pet insurance companies or partners in the rawhide industry. But one of them — a mammle armadillo — had a job that was far less than noble.

The mammle armadillo, who stepped out from the darkness of a block of flats, looked both ways before shutting the door, locking it and slipping the key into his pocket. He adjusted his other paw into his pocket as he walked, checking to be sure the packet of white powder was as it should be — it was — thus he made his way down the street.

Leaving the warm wind and golden glow of the main streets, he sneaked into the back alley closest to the multistory apartment block he had departed from. Here, in the darkness, the air was chill and damp. Droplets of moistness dripped wetly down from overhanging roof tiles and — among the shadows — a stranger loomed.

He stepped into the alleyway, passed the figure hidden in the shadows, turned a corner with the shape brewing up behind him. Sensing a presence, he started to turn, but all of a sudden, two paws were upon him — two large and feverishly relentless paws. One was holding his arm in a lock behind him, the other, holding the back of his neck tight, searing him effortlessly at a rush as he was forced back up the empty street.

He started to call out — shout for help — but just as he did so, the weight on his neck increased and he was pulled up a small staircase to a door. Stumbling up the steps in a panic, his head forced level with the lock on the door he had come out of but seconds earlier. He struggled for a moment, then whimpered, "Wha'— what do you want from me?" There was a growl from behind him — the kind of growl over which one didn't further ask questions — and his head was thrust a second time against the wooden door.

"O-okay, o-okay! I'll open it." Taking his key out, he fumbled with the lock before it clicked open and the force behind him was there again — relentless. It pushed without him ever having the chance to stop moving, get away or glance behind him. It pushed him on and up to a door on the second floor. In no more than thirty seconds, he had been captured, abducted, dragged up two staircases and to a door. He never had the chance to call out for help, the kidnapping was so quick — not to mention actually getting away — and, when they arrived at the door, his head was, again, forced level with the lock.

"I, I don't have the key!" There was that growl again, but it seemed to believe him this time as the strong paws, holding him, simply retracted, pulled the armadillo up, then smashed him with full-force into the door — the weak locks of which gave away instantly — and the armadillo was sent, rolling to the floor, while an albino white wolf dove into the room behind him, his razor-black claws extended and ready, his pale, slit eyes sweeping the room for his prey.

The wolf's eyebrows slowly lowered in thought. His paws dropped to his side, and he returned to a natural stance. The room — apart from the armadillo who was cowering on the floor — was empty.

The wolf looked about at the room. He stepped out and re-read the number on the door. This was definitely the right place, so, where was the rabbit? Where was she? Where... was—

...

Judy Hopps giggled as she called out to Nick, still struggling beneath the sheets of the bed which she had become tangled in after slipping out and onto the floor. "Niiick," she called, "I'm stuck!"

The fox chuckled, leaning forwards with a paw outstretched towards Judy's — which was all of what of the rabbit he could see — as he teased, "Need my help again, Hopps? Wherever would you be without— meee!" his last word was a cry of surprise as Judy's paw — rather than hold onto Nick while she stood herself up — tugged upon him with such sudden force that he was toppled off the bed likewise. Dazed as he tried to figure out what had just happened, Nick sat up to stand. Behind him, a pile of duvet rose, and threw its small but strong arms around his neck and pulled him back, flat upon the ground.

"Hey, let me up," he chuckled as he tried to pull himself away. Judy re-doubled her grip on his body. Nick reached quickly around her, traced up her arm and pinched the nerve in her elbow. The rabbit giggled as her hold on his was broken by reflex, and the fox took this opportunity and made to rise quickly. Quicker, the shape of Judy's legs came up from the sheets and hooked around Nick's waist. She twisted her body around, flipped Nick onto his side and threw the sheets up over both of them, as he fell on the floor.

Both laughing, giggling and growling playfully, each tussled with the other in the soft heat beneath the sheets, playing a game of who could stand up first. Judy would stand, only to be thrown back down by the weight of Nick upon her. Nick would stand, only to have his knees kicked from beneath him before falling back to the floor.

Judy leaped onto Nick again, they rolled. They rolled fast across the floor. They covered the entire floor space of Nick's carpeted bedroom and crashed against the sideboard, knocking over a lamp by the sound of it, but both failing to care. Both grinning, Judy pushed her paw against Nick's face to hold him down, and Nick's paw pressed up against Judy's to force her off. They focused entirely on their game as they each tried and failed their own and their partner's attempts to stand. When all of a sudden, they stopped. One second they were both playing an innocent, childish game... the next—

Both naked — but for Nick's boxers — the rabbit's and the fox's eyes met. With Nick lying on his back on the floor, Judy directly above him looking down, their heads level, their gazes upon one another deep — Nick's paws slowly wrapped around Judy's body, feeling her warmth and her smoothness both under his paws and against his bare chest.

Judy shivered, just a little, as his scent and his warmth filled her, and as the rough pads of his tender paws slowly ran up and down her back. She closed her eyes. Their lips met. The kiss was slow and gentle, sweet and tender... to start with. But then Nick shifted beneath her, flipped the rabbit onto her back, pinned her paws above her head with one arm, and held her face — her mouth — facing his with the other.

"Nick," murmured Judy as she grinned widely. His only reply was to make deep growl from the back of his throat — a wonderfully animalistic sound that sent a shiver of something, which really wasn't fear, down Judy's body — as he leaned further forwards into her, pinning Judy beneath his arm, grinning down while she grinned up, before their lips came crashing together again.

The kiss was deep from the offset, but it was made yet more so by the rabbit, as she put her arms about Nick's neck. Their tongues came into the mix, pushing with equal intensity into Judy's mouth as it did into Nick's. But then the five minute snooze-time on Nick's radio-alarm ended, and it kicked back into life with:

"Because she had kisses sweeter than wine. She had— mm, mmmm— kisses sweeter than wine."

Nick reached back over and silenced the device, but the damage was done and, when he returned, he could already see Judy's mind frame shifting back into getting ready for work. Neither could blame the other for this, and so, Nick reached out a paw to Judy as she lay upon the floor. This time, Judy took it and allowed Nick to lead her back to the bed, holding the sheet against her chest as she walked.

"You get a couple more minutes in bed, Hopps," he voiced, as he straightened the sheets over her, "I'll get dressed, make you some breakfast, and you can change in privacy while I'm out of the room."

"Thanks, Nick," she returned, beaming up at fox she once thought she could only dream of having for herself. "Did you sleep well?"

"Fine. Just fine, thank you, Hopps," he said, reaching out a paw, stroking it against Judy's shoulder, remembering the incredible pleasure caused to him by her presence beside him that night — the warmth, the softness, the affection, the trust he felt from her. "Still, I don't have to ask you that. By the way your legs were twitching, I'd say you must've been having some pretty Wilde dreams."

"Errh—!?"

Nick had made the comment in jest, but reacted to just how panicked Judy looked at the implication and decided, maybe, there was more truth in it than he first had realized... "Boy, what were you dreaming about?"

"Nothing!" she exclaimed as if electrified, to which the fox grinned, working it out for himself as easily as if she had just told him, thus he smiled, turned and slipped out of bed.

Judy watched — a little disjointedness; a little revealed that he was still wearing his boxers from the night before. He opened up his wardrobe and took out his ZPD uniform, a blue shirt, trousers, tie, et cetera, while glancing to Judy often with a fond smile as she watched. Judy peeped with fascination as he dressed — glancing away only when he changed out his boxers, not because she was uncomfortable with the sight, as such, but because she feared just glimpsing it would be enough for her to lose control of herself entirely — as it appeared, she was barely holding on by a thread.

But, as the fox dressed, it slowly became easier and easier, until every inch — every millimeter — of his body was the epitome of perfection. The knot of his tie was expertly tied, faultless; his shirt's hem tucked perfectly, straight and creaseless; his collar was exact, symmetrical and neat. He looked amazing, the rabbit thought, but... he didn't quite look like, 'Nick'. She assumed this sudden change of dress-code was on her account — trying to make a good impression or something — but just as she opened her mouth to tell him that he didn't have to worry and that she preferred: slash, was sexually attracted to his lop-sided, casual charm. He half turned to her, smirking, as his paws returned to his collar and flicked one corner up, untucked his shirt half an inch and twisted it slightly off-center, and by tugging at it and turning it askew, he loosened his tie so it was 'just' below regulation standard.

Shaking her head fondly, the rabbit giggled, "Dumb fox. Are you seriously telling me you spend more time on making yourself look scruffy than you would if you wanted to look neat?"

"Scruffy, me?" he gasped, jokingly coating a paw across his heart with a look of pain on his face, "I never look scruffy, Hopps. Just... lived in."

"So, you're telling me," Judy chuckled in disbelief, "that 'You', Nicholas Wilde, the fox who is renowned through the ZPD as the casual, easy-going cop who shirks off paper work. Who gets through the day on nothing but good luck and witty quips alone. Who slacks off as many duties as he can get away with, and who invariably takes naps in the storage room just about every Monday afternoon. Only to show me that he gets up earlier in the morning and puts more care and attention into his appearance than 'Me', Judy Hopps, the famed 'stickler' of the ZPD."

"Oh, I wouldn't call you a stickler," Nick said honestly, leaning back close to Judy and putting a kiss on her forehead. "You just set a good example for everyone — just like you set an example of a good life to me. I can more than understand why the Mayor and Bogo would want to advertise you as the model — perfect — officer."

"But still," she said quietly, blushing at his charm, "you can reach perfection with less effort!"

"I do look perfect," he said in wry reply, "just my own special brand of perfect."

Slowly, her eyes started tracing deliriously down his lean, fox-body. "You're right," she cooed, her voice thick with devious hunger, "you do look perfect." She bit down on her lower lip; and odd little groan escaped her from the back of her throat. "Absolutely perfect, and quite," she finished heavily, "irresistible."

"Judy?" Nick said, a tone of concern in his voice. "Judy, you're making me feel like a piece of meat."

"And what a piece of meat you are," Judy said, one paw slipping unconsciously beneath the sheets to do what Nick could only dream of, her eyes still drinking in the sight of him.

"Wow," Nick hummed, vaguely, "if I walked over there right now, you'd have me in a second, wouldn't you?"

"U-huh," she flirted, "as though we were jackrabbits at high noon: I'd have you." Heat building quickly around his collar, Nick took an unsteady step towards the rabbit. He knew he should be walking away, but his body just wasn't listening to him anymore. He had torn himself away from Judy's — by all accounts — irresistible body several times, since they had first embraced outside on the roof — and every one of them took more self-control than Nick ever thought he had.

This — however — this was too much. Far too much, and it drove Nick's desire, insane.

It was carnal — yes — it was animalistic and uncivilized — yes — it was disrespectful to the wishes of Judy's parents, and may, someday, make relations with them difficult — yes... But that didn't make it any easier for him to fight the incredible, maddening desire to take Judy's body, to feel her pressing up against him, to know — at long last — to know Judy and Judy's body in that special, sensual way.

"Ooh yeah, Nick," she breathed as he came ever closer, "I may not have seen all that much of you yesterday, but I remember exactly what I saw when the bed-sheets slipped round my place, and 'boy' was it good." Nick came and stood right up beside the bed, next to Judy, her... 'free' paw reaching up and slowly edging the sheets down off her body.

The fox would hate himself for what he did next for the rest of his life. But he did it all the same as, quite simply, it had to be done... Lurching forwards, he gave Judy a light kiss on the forehead, then practically ran from the room, shouting over his shoulder, "Okay-Judy-I'm-gonna-get-some-food-on-so-you-get-yourself-dressed-and-we'll-leave-right-after-we've-eaten!"

The door banged behind him. Judy blinked. "Nick?"

The door opened, cautiously. "Yes, Judy?"

"Is my carrot pen in there?"

"Yes...?"

"Could you throw it in here?" Nick opened his mouth as though to ask why, but then quickly through better of it and chucked it inside with the same feeling of self-preservation as a zoo-keeper had when throwing raw meet to the crocs, before shutting the door briskly behind him a second time.

Judy sat back in the bed as the door closed. She looked down at herself. She looked at her pen. It was for sure a nice, practical pen.

...

"We're in, okay?" the dealer blurted, carefully, "so, I guess I'll just be..." He stood, and the wolf shot him a very harsh look. "Staying, here, a little longer," the dealer finished pathetically, sitting down upon the bed. The albino creature stood stock still for a moment longer, he did what he had been told, what they had made damn sure he wouldn't forget to do if ever something would be amiss. Pulling out his phone, he tapped in the code which would make the moving image of 'Him' appear. It rang once and then was answered, His face appearing on the screen with a smile.

"Wulf, is it done?" The wolf shook his head, to which 'He' frowned. "What? What do you mean? You haven't been jeopardized, have you?" The wolf started to shake his head, but then — struck with a thought — he stopped himself and turned the phone so that the armadillo drug dealer came into view.

"I see," was all the face on the screen noted for a long while, and then, "this is how you gained access to the building, yes?" The wolf grunted in affirmation… "He is expendable," the face said, quite calmly, "this will not impede us further. I will arrange another meeting between you and this rabbit, and call you when I know where you can find her. This time — Wulf — you will not fail me." The wolf listened to the face on the screen — focusing hard on processing the words, which would usually become but-a-garbled jumble of sound if he didn't pay full attention — and then turned the phone so he and the dealer were in shot. Wulf jerked his head towards Him with an eyebrow raised in a question.

'His' head moved as He rearguard the dealer for a moment, then the face looked back to the wolf, His voice completely impassive with the words of impassive detachment, "He can't know of you… or me. Kill him."

"— Hey, wait—"

"And, Wulf," He added, regardless of the dealer's words, "it cannot look like murder, not at this pinnacle stage. If you get found out, I'm cutting all ties from you. We are too close to achieving our goal for you to destroy everything now. No screw-ups, understand?" The wolf nodded without expression. The face on the screen grimacing, He reached out and His face froze, as He pressed the 'end call' button. Slowly, the wolf turned his head; his pale eyes focusing on the frightened pupils of the armadillo drug-dealer.

"Hey... hey, p-pall," he started, nervously, backing away, "you— you want cash? I got lots of cash." The wolf seemed unfazed. He tried again, "I— err— I got drugs too! You want some drugs?" He reached into a pocket, pulled a large packet of white powder out and held it to the wolf. The wolf's pale eyes shifted down to look upon the packet. Slowly, his razor-clawed paw reached out.

"Yeah... yeah you take it. You take all of it." Clutching his paw around the packet, the wolf pulled his paw back. "Your boss… whoever he i— he doesn't have to know a thing!" Briskly, the dealer made for the exit, stepped into the doorway and passed the wolf. Without looking up from the packet, a single, white arm shot out and clutched onto the armadillo's shoulder with an iron grip.

Despite the defensive perks of nature of the armadillo species, the wolf effortlessly threw him back into the room, swinging the door shut with his foot, while his focus rose from the packet of white powder to the dealer. The armadillo raised his fists — he was a crook after all, and knew when the fist was the only way out — and delivered a powerful right-hook to Wulf's chest. The wolf flinched, but a flinch was all it was. The dealer tried three more times and then, the wolf simply became irritated.

He drew his arm back across his shoulder, and then swept the back of his fist across the armadillo's face. His paw was a blur and moved with the same forwards momentum of a truck, and the armadillo was knocked back in a daze, falling back on the bed, hitting his head on the sideboard, stunned now from the impact.

The white wolf advanced. Holding the packet in one paw, he raised the other and slit the clear plastic with a single, black claw as he came skulking over the stunned body of the dealer. Coming round — shaking himself into awareness. The armadillo started to mutter, while the wolf's strong arm reached out to his mouth. The dealer tried to pull back, but the impossibly strong fingers forced his jaw open. He tried to scream out, kick, or punch at the wolf, but the other paw thrust the packet into his mouth.

He tried to spit, but both the wolf's paw came clamping down on the armadillo's mouth, holding it shut, his pale eyes void of emotion as the dealer was forced to swallow, sealing his own fate. The moment he heard the gulp — the pathetic, whimpering cough — the white wolf pulled back from the dealer's mouth. The wolf stared at the retching body as it convulsed on the bed — his interest captivated utterly by death like it always was — watching, stimulated, and more than a little aroused, as he marveled at the last breaths of the mammal chocking before him.

Blood started seeping out from the dealer's nose and mouth. The blood entered into his eyes as his vision blurred. His heart was beating hopelessly fast in his chest, and his breaths were coming and going like a steam train at full speed. Yet — for all his efforts — it was as though he was suffocating. Trying to clear his lungs from the thick coat of hallucinogenic, which now covered them, the drug dealer coughed once more in a vain effort to free his airway — rewarded, only, with spewing forth a mouthful of blood which felt as though it was ripped out from his body, torn out of him, just as his lungs felt as though they were being shredded by glass within.

The white wolf goggled on, while the convulsions of the armadillo's body started to decrease. With one last shudder, one last gasp of wretched breath, one last sickening moan, which made the wolf glad to be alive — the armadillo's bloodied and broken body slipped off the bed and landed with a lifeless thump on the floor.

He savored the sight a moment longer, then turned, shutting the door behind him, which was sealed with a click, as the rattled tongue automatically slid into place, despite the broken locking mechanism.

He paced away down the corridor — unobserved, unheard by any — as he made his way to the exit of the building. This armadillo wasn't the target he had been set upon — and he wasn't nearly as much fun as a rabbit — but the wolf was pleased with the day as it had gone so far, and smiled pleasantly as he made his way out...

Out into the spotless, blue morning sky; into the warm wind which blew softly through the gold-like pavements that gleamed in the sun, slipping effortlessly back into the dark crowns of the untraveled places of the city… Utterly free from pain, disgust or guilt.

…

Author's notes:

Hesitance jumps around your mind,

Grooms decision thus chosen blind.

Your thoughts most succulent of snack,

All delivered by luscious feedback.

So don't hide like a tiny shrew,

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